


Welcome, listeners

by hotrodngold (Krystalicekitsu)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 22:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystalicekitsu/pseuds/hotrodngold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just think, Cecil- in another universe, you and Steve Carlsberg have been dating for 3+ years and have two dogs and a kitten named Memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome, listeners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hils](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hils/gifts), [mithrel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/gifts).



> Because hils_k and mithrel are horrible enablers and encourage my deviancy.

"Steeeeve," you hear, moments before Cecil comes in, holding a large pan and inspecting it bemusedly, "He gave us another one."

You smile, indulgently because, although you want to rip every "perfect" hair from his head, the Sheriff's secret police have declared Carlos-the-scientist largely off-limits for random acts of senseless, non-pre-approved violence. A kiss to Cecil's wonderful cheek will have to suffice- at least until that order of goat tongue comes in.

You take the pan from him and set it on the counter. It's probably over-cooked again, but Memory has been looking a little thin ever since she went off to that seminar on veganism and nature balancing. You can probably convince her the tuna is really tofu without too much trouble.

"How was work?" you ask, even though you already know. The only thing better than hearing Cecil Baldwin's dulcet voice moaning in your ear is the knowledge that him going to work is going to be nearly as pleasant. You might have a not-so-secret _thing_ for hearing him dictating the various rulings and cautions of the assorted powers in Night Vale.

"Absolutely _dreadful_. I got there and there was no coffee! No _coffee_ , Steve, can you imagine? Why, I had to go downstairs to sub-recordings just to find a pot that wasn't corroded by mysterious semi-solids or incubating various lifeforms!" he huffs with irritation and begins taking off his tie.

 _You_ pretend you haven't just nearly sliced off your thumb.

"Not in _here_!" you hiss. It's like he's forgotten everything about being intimate, which is proved half a second later when he blinks at you and glances down.

"Oh," he says, very obviously startled at his own actions. "I'll just..." He motions upstairs.

You nod, glad to not be forced to deal with your local Secret Police and the ticket for undressing in front of a street-facing window without proper lighting equipment and feather boa. 

Seriously, that man's _brain_ sometimes.


End file.
